The Black Bird
by makeitstay
Summary: Bittersweet Shathan, written originally as something for the Repo Kink Meme. Shilo hurts her shoulder and Nathan comforts her. I was actually rather drunk and perving on Anthony Head on Merlin while I wrote this.


She was standing on her small balcony, leaning against the black ornate fence. She was watching a large black bird soar across the sky, calling out loudly. As it drew closer, the city lights illuminated the bird, revealing a deep blue tinge to its plumage. Shilo's eyes shone as she watched it, small smile playing on her lips as she looked up at it, wishing it would come into her room. Wishing it would come close enough for her to touch it, to see it close up, feed it from her hand. But she knew it would not come close enough for that. She knew it would circle back away from her window, back out into the sky and away from here. The sky is overcast, the day has been hot and the promise of rain is etched on the sky with the dark, brooding clouds.

Her long, solf black hair which was actually a wig, was caught by the wind and blown across her face. The breeze had a cool edge to it, but the still air was still warm. The sun was setting now and the sounds of the city were buzzing, like a living thing, a dull thrum of noise and activity all around and far below. She heard a soft noise behind her, in her bedroom. She turned from the balcony, looking into her room. Her father was walking towards her. He'd brought her dinner tray up and set it on the small table in her room. Now he walked out to the balcony.

"Precious, come in away from there." He said softly, putting a hand on the small of her back to usher her into her bedroom.

The balcony was safe of course, but he'd rather she not be out there. The air could carry germs, it wasn't safe for her to be out in the open air. Better she stay inside, especially when it was likely to rain later.

Shilo said nothing, but allowed herself to be escorted back into the coziness and security of her room.

"Are you hungry, dear?" Nathan asked, looking down at her with something akin to interest or concern.

Shilo shook her head apologetically. She rarely got very hungry, never seemed to have much of an appetite. The warmer weather didn't help with this fact. It seemed she had more of an appetite in the cooler months.

Her shoulder twinged with slight pain.

"Is your shoulder still bothering you?" He asked, his kind eyes regarding her.

His eyes looked almost translucent at times, although could seem a deeper green when he wore certain clothes, certain colours. Right now they were nearly colourless, but so kind and comforting.

"A little." She replied, rubbing her sore shoulder with her hand.

She'd hurt it a couple of days previously, while attempting to corner a moth in her room, standing precariously on a chair to try and reach it. She'd lost her balance and tumbled, landing heavily on her shoulder, causing a large bruise. She bruised easily, with her pale skin and frailty.

Nathan guided her to her bed, and she obediently sat down.

"Lay down, Shi, I've got some cream that will help your bruising." Nathan spoke softly, as Shilo laid down on her stomach, hands clutched under her chin.

She laid her head down, resting one cheek on her pillow, looking at her father with shining eyes. Her face betrayed no expression, but her skin tingled in anticipation. Her father's large, warm hands always felt delicious on her skin. In the past, on nights she had trouble sleeping, he would sit by her on the bed, running his hands over her back until she drifted to sleep. It had been a long time since he'd done it though. Years, maybe. It seemed that, slowly over time, he'd been drawing back from her in some way. She had matured physically and mentally and he had seemed to back off from her. It wasn't appropriate anymore for her to crawl into his bed with him when she had a bad dream, wasn't appropriate for her to curl up in his lap and gaze up at him adoringly as he told her stories. He seemed to keep more of a distance lately.

She was almost seventeen now, a small and unassuming beauty with small hands and feet, a narrow frame, large and expressive brown eyes. With her pale skin, large eyes, small mouth, sometimes she resembled a porcelain doll.

He fetched the ointment from the small medipack he kept in her room, and sat down beside her on her bed, slipping the white cotton nightshirt she wore down off her shoulder to expose creamy, white skin. There was a purplish bruise across it, right along the top. His face creased with concern, and he dabbed a small amount of ointment as gently as he could on it so as not to hurt her with the pressure. The cream was cold on her skin, the pain so slight as to be unnoticeable, and Shilo felt shivery and closed her eyes as his warm hand slowly moved in circles to rub in the ointment. The substance would help take away the colour and pain of the bruise.

He watched the tiny hairs on her arm stand on end as the last of the cream was rubbed in. He hesitated for a moment, slightly torn. Then moved his hand to continue tickling and rubbing her, over her back, right down her spine. He moved his hand in circular motions first, then up and down in smooth, unending strokes. Shilo let out a tiny sigh of contentment and Nathan smiled a small smile, just the corner of his mouth twitching upwards as he watched her, his beautiful Shilo.

He continued to run his hand over her, up over her good shoulder and down her arm. She moved her arms from where they were bent beneath her, stretched her arms out by her sides, her palms facing the top of the plastic canopy that covered her bed.

She couldn't believe the pleasure he could elicit just from these smooth, comforting movements of his fingers and palm. His hand cupped her arm and ran down the length of it, to her hand where he moved his thumb in small circles on her palm. It seemed to send electric sparks racing up her arm, waves of pleasure as he changed tactic, gently running fingers up her inner arm. His short fingernails were just enough to tickle and tease her skin. As he continued these ministrations back up to her back, another quiet sound escaped her, and he felt her body tremble a little.

Again he paused, unsure. She opened her eyes, looking at him with heavy lidded eyes, small smile. She didn't ask, but she didn't need to. Without letting himself consider it any longer, he slowly undid the zip that ran down the back of her night gown. The full length of her pale back was exposed to the warm yellow glow of her bedroom. He resumed his movements, sending shivers over her body once more.

Surely it had never felt _this_ good before, she was certain something was different. There was some strange feeling building within her, she felt a longing she'd rarely experienced before. Both of his hands were upon her now, unending, warm, comforting strokes, all over her back and then down over her bottom. A twinge of lust as his hands travelled over and down her thighs and back up again.

The lust made her eyes snap open, brought with it a twinge of alarm. He felt her body stiffen a little. His breath was shallower than usual. No words were spoken between them. Shilo tried to speak but found no words. Her heart had begun to race, and not in the needing-medication way.

Nathan could feel an unwelcome tightness in his pants, blood rushing in a direction it hadn't gone in many, many years. A quiet groan escaped his lips.

"I-" _I should go. I should leave now._

But the words don't come out, he's mesmerised by her white skin, her warm flesh. His hands continue to move, almost of their own volition. He hears her moan so softly, sees a faint pink flush across her cheeks, usually so pallid and colourless. He finds himself longing for her so desperately he wants to cry for the shame of it. But what is the shame in this? What is the shame in making her feel such pleasure, caring for her wellbeing, protecting her?

He's on his feet now beside the bed, pulling her nightgown down now, and she feels paralysed. She looks at him with trusting eyes, helping by shrugging the soft garment off her shoulders, as he pulls it down tantalisingly slowly. It slides over her slight hips, over her thighs and down off over her knees, ankles, feet. She's bare chested, wearing only simple black cotton panties. Still lying on her stomach on the bed, breathing hard. Her breath comes in shuddery gasps as her heart races. She feels fear, lust, trepidation. She feels his hands resume their well worn paths now, still drawing tingles from her body with every stroke. And then his lips, soft kisses on her shoulders, down her spine. The kisses are insistent, make her tremble. She tries to speak, but only gasps.

The sun is gone from the sky, and the night air is cooler than the day has been but it is still humid. He pushes her hair across the pillow, away from her neck, and leans into her, breathes against her neck before kissing her gently below her ear. There's a dull throbbing in her nether regions. She can feel her nipples are hard against the soft quilted bedspread she lays on. It'd be embarrassing, but somehow she doesn't care right now. Only cares about how good this feels. He kisses her again on her neck, then nibbles and sucks gently, so gently that all she feels is a million tingles, reminding her of how sherbet feels on your tongue. Like a fizzing, exciting buzz of pleasure, that starts in her neck and seems to envelope her entire body.

His heart is racing, thundering in his chest. It almost hurts. Suckling and nipping at her neck, he ventures a quick adjustment to his groin which is straining against his pants.

"Shi-" His voice is rough, melodious but breathless at the same time.

She looks at him, he watches her puils dilate. Her eyes seem like pools of tar, shining, bottomless, hypnotising. He groans, pushing her onto her back, holding her hands as he moves on top of her, rock hard member pressing into her through his pants, through her underwear she can still feel it. It alarms her but the lust in her is more powerful than the fright.

She and he have shared many things, have spoken of so many topics. He has taught her so many things about the world. Taught her to read and write, propper grammar, taught her about science and math. Two people between whom countless words have passed, sometimes almost without thought neccessary at all. But they have lost their words now, lost the communication which had always flowed between them like an unending stream.

He kissed her deeply, hungrily, on the lips. She tastes sweet and warm. Some bittersweet feeling overcomes them both, neither pleasure nor pain, neither guilt, sorrow nor joy. But something unstoppable which only builds with intensity as they kiss, again and again. She's so small, next to him. He's all broad shoulders, well built and strong. She's like a delicate little bird, but she's so strong. Perhaps not physically, but her will is irrepressible. She would stand against the world if it challenged her. She would stand up and proclaim _I am ME, I am going to LIVE!_ If ever told it was hopeless. And that's why he loves her. That's one of the many, countless reasons. He feels her strength, feels her courage that she so often hides.

Her breasts are small, rounded, soft and supple. Hard little nipples, as his hand cups one breast, teasing her with his thumb whilst still kissing her. She groans into his mouth. He's careful of her sore shoulder, yet he's so full of desire now, so desperate for her, it's a real challenge to keep it in mind, to avoid grabbing her near the bruised flesh.

She arches her back , eyes squeezing shut, feels his bulging hardness against her pubic mound. She can feel her own wetness but it doesn't embarrass her as she might have expected it would. She can feel her face burning hot and flushed. This is some kind of delicious agony, as he moves against her. The friction of him against her makes her elicit whimpery noises into his neck. His face is buried in her neck as he continues to thrust and grind into her. Wraps one arm tightly around her back, drawing her tighter against him. He hears her whimper loudly, her face is the picture of lust and passion, such an erotic expression he would never have expected to see on Shilo's face. He can't stand it anymore, his free hand moving down to release the button on his trousers, feeling relief at last as he unfastens the zipper and lets himself be free.

Shilo bucks her hips up towards him desperately. She can feel his skin against her now, arches her back, wide eyed and her breath coming in panting gasps. He kisses her again, rougher now. She can feel just the slightest brush of stubble, like fine grained sandpaper, across her face. He slides his hand down her body beneath him, tugging at her underwear. He felt her stiffen just slightly, her eyes were screwed shut now as he slid his hand down and against her, cupping her, spreading her lips open gently. She was so wet and wanting, hot and slick against his hand. He pushed her underwear down over her thighs, just enough to gain access. She's writhing slightly, desperate for the climax she knows she is so close to. The air is so hot and feels thick, heady, like apprehension.

He slides a finger deep inside her and a loud sound escaped her, almost a squeal. He looks down at her, at her shining, begging eyes.

She breathes out noisily, rocking against him and he stimulates her with deft movements. Her vision is odd, the room seems to be on fire, everything glowing and moving, and she sees it all through a fog. His palm is massaging her in a way that makes her breaths shorter and shorter. Her legs start to shake, trembling uncontrollably. A tide seems to move over her, all hot and smooth and achingly pleasureable. Her moan is gutteral, going on and on. The waves seem to build and continue for longer than she can bear it. She writhes and moves beneath him, against his hand, tossing her hair, coming loudly and hard, cries and moans half muffled as she turns her cheek into the pillow. She looks at him in shock, and he has that pleading look in his eyes now. Her vision is blurred but she stares up at him with dilated pupils, heart still racing.

All he can say is "Shi-!" It's more of a gasp for help than a word.

She regards him, still moving her hips, still panting, "Please, please..." She says it softly, but with a steely determination.

It's enough. It's enough to let him give in. He hair smells like vanilla, her skin seems to glow. He positions himself at her entrance, and she is impatient, yet there is fear on her face too. They kiss lovingly, and he feels as if he is seeing her for the first time, that this is some new person. This is not the girl he has known, cared for. It cannot be. This is some shockingly beautiful gypsy who has bewitched him with her beguiling dark eyes and long raven tresses. She's small and slight but womanly and strong at the same time. She arches her back and he slides haltingly. She's so hot, soaking wet, yet he feels such resistance against his sensitive flesh. He groans loudly into her neck, ecstacy and aching, pain and desire. He's not sure what the difference is anymore. He hears her cry. She's shuddering against him, with pain or pleasure he's not so sure.

He is moving against her, again and again, pushing her legs further apart, until he is so deep inside her and her long, thin legs are wrapped around him. He isn't sure how long they continue like that although time seems to stretch out like bubble gum, and all he's aware of is his aching pleasure and her soft, hot flesh and breath.

When he reaches his climax he is kissing her, hard and passionately. As the waves receed, he collapses on her, both of them slick with sweat and sex, her white sheets damp. They lay there, the only sound their breathing and the pounding blood in their ears. And then rain begins to pelt on the roof overhead.

Shilo finds it very strange, as she could swear that she can hear the black bird, calling loudly, in the dark night outside her window, against the softer sound of the falling rain.


End file.
